24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
the coveted corners
seen always the driftwood
much said in the life quarantine
often Technicalities of all sorts
simply connectivity often questions
assailing the spirit to recover
much said much to do
much said much to do
coverage of human development
seen in the hallway for future stories
realizing in the human endeavors engraving
truly a trusted movement for human coverage
Poem # 12
John Cusack’s film, Hi-Fidelity, is perhaps one of the best of his films
It centered on music and the way his character utilized it
To remember
To collate
To help navigate life
When I was younger
The mix tape and its creation
Was both art and spiritual
I’d spend hours combing the airwaves
Searching for that perfect song to fill the veins
Of polyester tape
Hitting pause at just the right moment
If you got through one side without a bit of commercial
You were legit
Both sides?
A master
If you were truly a connoisseur of music
You knew what songs went in what order
To get that right mix
Because it was more than just music
It was a retelling of who you are
It’s a lost these days
From her ancestors
she bore a line of magic
that transformed all life
Just like a broken record
My heart skips out your name
Every time you cross my mind
Like so many childhood games
He loves me, he loves me not
Daisy petals on the floor
And, like a broken record,
I can’t take much more
Every memory we share
Stuck forever on repeat
My heart’s a broken record
Drowning in defeat.
~Mandy Kocsis©2020~
In the excavation of a closet
packed with my siblings’ left-behind belongings
I found a floppy disk
carefully labeled in my sister’s middle school hand
(bubble letters were all the rage)
which read:
PRIVATE: do not read!!!
Perhaps if I was the kind of sister who pried
(and had a computer with a working floppy drive
or the mischievous motivation to acquire one)
I’d excavate that too
and see what the sister who loved pink and flowers and bubble letters
held precious and private.
It was a time of obsolete technology that we can’t easily access now;
it was a time of opposite adolescences spent in baffled unfamiliar separation.
The circle of time,
Is winding down
Smart phones take their place
No need for being smart.
.No need for counting fives.
Old and rusty
Towering the bookshelf usually
Once, writers can’t live without
Now, won’t even be given a glance
But this typewriter is to me
A patriarch of our history
A boss, a godfather a king of all
who wrote of words, of poems, of lore
You’ll be put to your place
Of comfort and respect
Hats off to you and a round of applause
You lived a good life with a good cause
weary soul in the time of pandemic
clashing conflicts in the reaching grounds
vulnerabilities in the risk for contamination
corona-virus of the haven ward quarantine
the spirit moved in the heavenward seen
much have been said in the news dailies
moving much the psyche within encouraging anew
seen to overcome and seen to the ” new normal”
lock downs seen to abate the call
seen much for the deepen encounter
simply followed by abiding citizenry
much said let’s do more to life bridges
Poem #11
Remember the days when people used the payphone,
People used to insert money and actually pay attention to you.
Now we facetime, hangout virtually,
Share pictures but never make memories.
Call people but when we hang up we regret the time spent,
Remember the days of the payphone?
How money actually bought time and a little bit of happiness.
Remember when our hearts were stereos,
We played music from our heartstrings each time the high was low.
Created music on our own terms and wrote the lyrics to our summer jams,
And before that, we blasted symphonies from pieces of vinyl,
Killed ourselves softly and lived aloud,
Remember those days?
When a single cassette held your memories,
And pressing play took you on a journey to childhood.
Remember how obsolete black and white cameras became,
Now teenagers use filters,
To try to filter life’s problems.
Filtrate the sadness from their eyes and try focus on the lack of color.
How picture-perfect smiles once filled their lenses,
But now perfection isn’t found in the smiles,
But in the likes brought in by the phone camera.
Do you remember all these things?